


Today’s The Day, Satan Was Here

by doctor_bitchcraftt



Series: Boatnecks and Fishnets [23]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Bodyswap, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 15:48:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20212300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_bitchcraftt/pseuds/doctor_bitchcraftt
Summary: Danny wakes up not feeling like himself, mostly because he’s in Roy’s body.They’re never drinking Raja’s mystery cocktails again.Not crack.  Seriously.





	Today’s The Day, Satan Was Here

Danny woke up with a splitting headache, a mouth that tasted like a bar floor, and an urgent need to pee. He vaguely recalled falling into bed after (somehow) making their way back to Roy’s from Raja’s place, too drunk to do more than kick off shoes and pants. Whatever she’d served them tasted like nectar and hit like a freight train, and had been a whole lot of fun until he opened his eyes ten seconds ago.

Eyes squeezed shut to keep his brain from sloshing as he moved, Danny rolled out of bed slowly. He’d ended up on the wrong side, but given the night before he was grateful they’d made it that far after the fifth failed attempt to unlock the front door. Luckily, he knew exactly how far the bathroom was from the bed, a product of way too many hungover mornings. And Roy’s side was closer anyway, so he counted that as a win.

He opened his eyes just enough to locate the toilet to take care of business, avoiding turning on the light. Danny could have sworn he was wearing a thong last night instead of briefs, but it hardly seemed as important as keeping the contents of his stomach down. After washing his hands and rinsing his mouth (grateful to Roy for always putting everything back in the same spot, including the mouthwash), he shuffled back towards the bed. 

The floor seemed a bit closer and the furniture taller than usual, but it was probably a product of the hangover. Roy was buried under the covers facing away, and he tried to be quiet enough to not wake him. A post-drinking-morning-after Roy tended to wake up more Bianca than anything, and he didn’t want to deal with her sharp tongue until he’d had at least two more hours of sleep. Preferably more, along with breakfast.

Unfortunately, his foot caught on the pile of clothes next to the bed and he tripped, catching himself on the nightstand. His head and stomach immediately protested the change in altitude, and he brought a hand up intending to press over his eyes. Instead, he froze with his hand halfway to its destination, hovering just in front of his face.

The black nail polish was less chipped than it should be, given his tendency to pick at it, but that wasn’t the problem. Slowly, he turned his hand over and opened his eyes further to stare at the back of his hand in the dim light seeping through the curtains. 

It wasn’t what he saw - it was what he _didn’t_ see. The MEOW tattoo that should have been on his knuckles was nowhere to be found, or the ink on the side of his hand. Licking his fingers and rubbing did nothing to change it, no concealer to wipe away. Pulling the sleeve of his shirt up revealed a blank forearm. With a sense of mounting horror, he struggled out of the shirt altogether, panic welling up. No ‘live through this’ on the inside of his bicep, ‘I’m the Mary’ missing from his left arm along with all of his other ink.

”What the fuck,” he muttered urgently, “what-“

It wasn’t just his brain detoxing, his voice sounded wrong, too raspy and low even for the morning. 

“Oh fuck...”

Looking down at his torso, his stomach twisted itself in a knot that had nothing to do with a hangover. Much as he’d like it, Danny had never had defined abs or a tight v-line, and he sure as fuck didn’t have skinny thighs. He raised both hands to his face, searching, not finding his nose ring but sliding over stubble that felt too dense and full brows. The earrings felt like crystal studs, the kind he never wore. The kind that Ro-

No.

No fucking way.

”Oh my god,” he forced out, heart hammering in his chest, “What the fuck...”

The bundle of covers on the bed in front of him groaned before a tattooed hand pushed them back.

”Pussyface, shut up and go back to-“

The person in the bed rolled over, pushing themself up on one elbow, and Danny found himself staring into his own sleepy eyes. 

“What. The. Fuck.”

That was definitely his voice and look of confusion, although he didn’t think he scrunched his nose quite that much. He was almost afraid to turn and look in the mirror over the dresser. 

That was a lie. He was fucking terrified.

Roy’s face stared back at him, expression shocked and eyes wide with panic.

His body kicked the covers off, scrambling across the bed, and yeah those were definitely the clothes he’d gone to sleep in, complete with thong. Danny swallowed convulsively.

”...B?”

Watching himself nod was surreal.

”Yeah...fucking hell. What the- no.” His voice sounded all wrong, the tone right but vowels flattened and words clipped. “Just no. This is not happening.”

He sat down hard on the end of the bed, like a puppet with its strings cut. 

“This can’t be real.” His body stopped in front of the mirror. “If I close my eyes, I’m going to open them and be myself.”

And that was definitely Roy. In his body.

“This is really happening,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Silence. One minute passed, then two, neither of them moving. Then gentle hands pulled his down and guided him to turn, a body coming to rest next to his.

”Pussyface?”

He opened his eyes to find his own face two inches away. 

“Yeah.”

Roy (and he had to think of him that way because his brain couldn’t handle anything else) started to cross his legs and stopped, an unreadable expression on his (Danny’s) face as he seemed to be carefully not looking down.

”What?”

If he kept it to single syllables, the voice wasn’t as noticeable.

“I’m in your body. I’m in your body, wearing a fucking thong, and I’ve got your morning wood.”

Oh.

“Think about Darienne’s naked ass. It’ll go away.”

“Thanks for the visual.”

He stood, opening a dresser drawer to retrieve something, and took half a step before Danny grabbed his hand.

”Where are you going?”

“I need to take a piss, and your body or not I am not spending any longer in this ass floss than I have to.”

”B...”

”Yeah?”

”When I got up to pee, that means I touched your-“

”Fucking don’t say it, queen, this is weird enough already.”

Hearing his voice taking on Roy’s speech patterns was just wrong. Danny let go of his hand and watched his own back walk towards the bathroom. 

He really did have an amazing ass.

The air conditioning kicked on and he shivered, feeling colder than usual. Right. Roy’s fat-free body. He reached for the shirt he’d discarded, then walked around the bed to grab his own torn t-shirt borrowed from Adore’s wardrobe. It settled on him loosely, collar gaping to the top of his sternum and falling off one shoulder. 

He could hear water running, and moments later Roy emerged in a pair of briefs and a scowl. 

“You really need to get your front tooth fixed.”

He bent over to grab last night’s skinny jeans off the floor and started to pull them on, cursing when they wouldn’t go up past his knees. Heaving a sigh, he went back to the dresser and dug out a pair of pajama pants and oversized Adore Delano tank top.

”You've still got that?”

Roy’s signature dead-eye stare didn’t translate well to Danny’s rounder features.

”I’ve got all your merch, bitch.”

”Oh.”

He started to sit down on the bed again before tugging Danny up by the wrist.

”What-“

”This is fucked up, and I need coffee if we’re gonna figure whatever the fuck this is out.”

Roy paused in the bedroom doorway, staring at his face.

”What?”

”I know my nose is big, but fuck.”

On the way into the kitchen, Danny tried hard not to wonder what would happen if they were stuck this way. Roy went straight to the coffee maker, muttering something as his hip bumped into the cupboard door.

”What?”

”How do you manage to take up this much space with this huge ass?”

“Hey- my ass is the bomb.”

He slumped at the kitchen table, pulling his legs up and finding it strangely easy to fold them between his chest and the edge of the table. Seeing his body with one knee angled in and foot tilted in Bianca’s typical stance that carried over into Roy was a mindfuck.

A mug of coffee landed on the table in front of him, and Roy sat down with his own. Danny looked at the size of the mug and winced. 

“If you drink that much coffee, you’re gonna be hyper later.”

“Fucking- I need it.”

Danny rummaged around the pile of keys and other things on the table before Roy clamped his hand on his wrist.

”What do you think you’re doing?”

”I need a smoke- oh.”

”Yeah. You’re not putting that shit in my lungs.”

They finished their coffee in tense silence. Danny followed Roy into the living room, sitting on the couch and chewing his lip.

”Okay. So.”

“Yeah.”

”How the fuck,” he groaned, “did we end up like this? I didn’t take any strange party pills, so...” 

He looked expectantly at Danny.

”What? I didn’t either, just smoked some weed with Raja.”

”Raja.”

Roy stood up and started pacing, cursing as his shin hit the coffee table.

”B?”

”Raja. She’s a mother fucking witch.”

”You think she can fix this?”

”Fix it? I bet it’s her damn witch’s brew that caused it!”

“But why-“

”Fuck if I know. Where’s my-“ he disappeared down the hallway, returning with his phone, “we’re calling that whore and finding out what the fuck happened.”

Thumbing through the contacts, he tapped the call symbol and speaker with more force than necessary. It rang twice before being answered.

”Morning.” Raja sounded as mellow and calm as ever. “I didn’t think you’d be awa-“

”Bitch. What. Did. You. Do.”

“Adore, what’s wrong?”

“This isn’t Adore.”

”What?” Raja seemed genuinely confused. “Oh...oh! Oh.”

”Oh?” 

Roy rubbed the fabric of his shirt between his fingers hard enough that Danny wondered if he was going to wear a hole in it.

”I mean...are you two enjoying it?”

“Uhhh, what?” Danny joined in, “how...”

”I told you,” Roy snapped, “she did this to us!”

”Raja?”

“Yes?”

”Why?” 

If this was real bruja shit, Danny was more concerned with the reasoning behind it because he knew better than to piss off a witch. Raja didn’t seem angry though, she sounded more like someone asking if the recipient enjoyed their gift.

“I thought you two would be happier about it.”

”Ummm, why?”

Raja sighed, rustling noises filtering down the line like she was turning pages in a book.

”You were both so sad last night. Drunk too, but sad. I could tell. Adore, you said you wanted to be more like Bianca, because you were tired of disappointing her. And Bianca, you were talking to me but you kept watching her instead. I thought you’d feel better if you understood each other more, but umm....” the pages rustled again, “you weren’t supposed to switch bodies.”

Roy was pacing again, hand planted on his hip in a way that would have been comical if it was actually Danny standing that way.

”I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

”Bianca,” Raja’s voice was gently reproachful, “you're worried about her. It’s okay.”

“So maybe I am, but how the fuck am I supposed to understand her better this way?”

”I told you, you weren’t supposed to switch bodies. I must have gotten something wrong.”

Danny’s headache was getting worse, temples pounding and vision gone blurry. 

“Look, I think I can fix it-“

”You think? Queen, what if we’re stuck like this? No one’s gonna believe Adore suddenly can’t sing and wants to do standup. And Bianca Del Rio isn’t launching a music career and dancing naked onstage...”

Roy trailed off, hand squeezing Danny’s.

”Pussyface? Are you okay?”

He shook his head miserably and regretted it immediately as lights started swimming in front of his eyes. Dimly, he was aware of Roy checking his forehead, trying to ask him questions, but he couldn’t hear past the ringing in his ears. The ringing grew louder, eclipsing everything else, and then..................................

_Bzzzzzz bzzzzz bzzzzzzzzz_

“I love you pussyface, but if you don’t turn that off you’re gonna need a new phone.”

Danny sat bolt upright, covers falling around his waist. Ignoring the phone, he checked his hands (tattoos) and grabbed the shoulder of the person on the other side of the bed.

Roy’s expression when he rolled him over was a mix of disoriented and incredulous.

”What- oh for fuck’s sake...” 

He reached past Danny to silence the alarm on his phone. 

“What?”

Climbing off the bed, Danny nearly ran into the dresser in his haste to reach the mirror.

”Pussy- what are you doing?”

Wide green eyes, messy hair falling across his face, and inked skin. He gripped the edge of the dresser as his knees went weak with relief.

”Are you okay?”

Roy came up behind him, hand gentle on his shoulder. 

“Adore?”

The concern in his voice turned to outright worry when Danny collapsed on the floor, laughing so hard he wasn’t sure if he was about to cry. Roy sat on the floor next to him, all pointy elbows and knees, and Danny gave in to the urge to wrap his arms around that body and hug him tightly.

”Okayyyyy,” Roy returned the embrace, “are you still drunk?”

”Oh my fuckin- B, you will not believe the dream I just had...”

**Author's Note:**

> It had to be canon compliant, so I hope the dream ending isn’t disappointing. It was a hell of a lot of fun to write...


End file.
